The university was loud.
Not alive—just loud.
Loud with boys pretending confidence was arrogance.
Loud with girls laughing too much, smiling too sweetly, acting like they weren't watching every move the men made.
Noise. Chaos. Acting.
And right through it walked Aanya.
She didn't try to stand out.
She didn't need to.
She was beautiful—quietly so. The kind that didn't beg for attention, yet pulled it without effort. Heads turned, but no one dared to stare too long. There was something about her presence—sharp, distant, uninviting.
Aanya hated this place already.
The noise. The crowd. The fake smiles.
She hated how people pretended to be nice, pretended to care.
Her rules were simple.
No pretending.
No sugarcoated words.
No unnecessary closeness.
And then there was him.
Rudra.
Chain hanging loose around his neck.
Rings glinting on his fingers.
Shirt half-buttoned, half-tucked, half-careless.
Hair messy—intentionally so.
He walked through the crowd like the world bent for him. And it did. Second year, popular, feared, wanted. Girls clung to him—one hand around his arm, another boldly resting on his waist. He didn't stop them. He never did.
He was the king of this university.
And exactly the kind of man Aanya despised.
Fate, unfortunately, agreed to test her patience.
She was walking through the corridor, eyes on her phone, trying to escape the noise, when chaos rushed toward her. Rudra came running down the hall, friends chasing him, laughter echoing behind them. The crowd parted instantly, giving him space.
She didn't move.
That was the mistake.
They collided hard.
Her phone slipped from her hand and hit the floor. Gasps followed. The corridor went silent. She stumbled—almost fell.
Almost.
Rudra caught her.
Or rather, his arm wrapped around her instinctively. His hand landed at her waist. Her face was inches from his chest. Too close. Close enough to feel his breath.
Normal. Accidental. Harmless.
For Aanya—it was none of those things.
She froze.
Touch.
She hated touch.
Rudra let go slowly, eyes scanning her face, curiosity already replacing surprise. She straightened instantly, lifting her gaze. Her stare cut through the air, sharp and unforgiving.
He smirked.
A mistake.
"Oh," he drawled lazily, loud enough for everyone to hear, "so now girls are pretending to fall just to get my attention?"
Laughter rippled through the crowd.
His smirk deepened as his eyes flicked back to her. "You could've just asked," he continued. "Why risk yourself?"
His hand lifted toward her wrist.
Another mistake.
Before his fingers could touch her—
Slap.
The sound echoed through the corridor like a gunshot.
Rudra's head snapped to the side. Silence followed. The laughter died instantly. Regret flashed across faces that had enjoyed the show seconds earlier.
A red mark bloomed on his cheek.
Slowly, Rudra turned back.
The smirk was gone.
His eyes burned.
Aanya stepped closer, voice steady, deadly calm. "You touched me," she said. "You crossed a line."
She turned to leave, then paused. Without looking back, she added, "And no—not everyone is the same."
She walked away.
Rudra's fist slammed into the wall.
Hard.
The sound cracked through the corridor. His jaw clenched, eyes dark. "I'll make your life hell," he muttered.
People watched in silence. His friends followed him out.
That was how it started.
Later, Aanya stood in the bathroom, water running endlessly from the tap. She stared at her reflection, unmoving. Memories pressed in—too loud, too fast, too much. She shut them down like she always did.
Control. Silence.
In class, she chose a corner seat. Alone. Peaceful.
The door opened.
A new professor walked in—tall, composed, unfamiliar. Whispers spread. Girls stared.
Aanya didn't.
"Introduction," the professor said. "I'm new. And I see freshers here."
Students stood one by one. Flirting. Joking.
Then the door opened again.
Late.
Rudra walked in.
Smirk back in place. Hair still messy. His cheek faintly red.
His eyes locked onto Aanya.
The professor frowned. "Is this your house?"
Rudra ignored him completely, walking in without permission. "You new?" he asked casually.
Without waiting, he took the seat beside Aanya.
The professor's jaw tightened. "I'll report this to the HOD."
"For now, let it go," he sighed. "I'm Professor Aarav Roy."
Rudra didn't care.
He leaned slightly toward Aanya, eyes gleaming, silently mouthing—
Hello, princess.
She looked away.
And something far more dangerous than a slap began.